Letters from the Sky
by WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk
Summary: On Lorien, one is never whole unless both sides of the coin are accounted for. On Earth, one is just never whole. The Number Fours will change that. Mark James/OC
1. Prolouge

Title: Letters from the Sky

Author: WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk

Fandom: I Am Number Four, 2011

Characters: Henri, John, Sarah, Sam, Number Six, Mark/OC

Rating: T – M

Disclaimer: I do not own I Am Number Four. Everything belongs to their respective owners.

Summary: On Lorien, one is never whole unless both sides of the coin are accounted for. On Earth, one is just never whole. The Number Fours will change that.

* * *

><p>Nobody tells you about the lies, or the running, or the danger. No one mentions how hard it is. How tiring this kind of life can be. It's lonely. It's terrifying. We've been running for so long, I can hardly remember a time when I wasn't on the move. I've been to more places than I can count. I've had more "friends" than are <em>worth<em> trying to remember. I've felt no love, no compassion, no pity, no kinship with the people we cross paths with. They aren't like us and we aren't like them.

When my brother and I were three our home planet, Lorien, was destroyed by the Mogadorians. They slaughtered our people like livestock and sucked our planet dry. Our parents were among the elite group of Guards that were wiped out in the initial invasion. The Mogs stole everything from me and my brother. Our parents, our home, our lives. We were among the lucky few to survive. Only nine children and their assigned protectors made it off the planet alive.

In mine and my brother's case, our protector, Henri, got a bit more than he signed up for. Having twins on Lorien is practically unheard of. Having a boy and girl set of twins has never been witnessed in our history. We are the first, and, if I am truthful, we are most likely the last. Henri was assigned Child Number Four. No one told this that Child Number Four was actually a set of twins. On our home world, we would not be considered two separate people. On Lorien we would have been the same. One soul in two bodies, two sides of the same coin. Black and white, hot and cold. We would never be whole without the other right there beside us.

Here on Earth, it's not the same. They try to separate us. Henri has to explain over and over again that we can't function without the other. The humans think it's crippling for us to rely on each other so much. We ignore them the best we can. When we reached the right age, Henri started to send us to school. He says it's so we don't raise suspicions when we have to move again. I think it's because Henri feels the need to give us some kind of normalcy. Whatever the reason, my brother and I don't argue.

We do, however, argue about _why_ we have to move. Since I am the more reserved and passive one, you can imagine that my brother is the outgoing and aggressive type. He's always pulling some stunt or another that sets off alarms with other people, or that gets posted to the internet. And we have to move. Because, in our lives, it's run or die. Henri tells my brother to be more like me, to stay out of sight. While I agree that sometimes my brother can be a bit much, I do not want him to be like me. He is the other side of me that I just cannot bring out. He is my other half.

We were nine years old when Number One died. The burning in my arm has been the worst pain I've ever felt. My brother and I have the matching scars to prove that all of the surviving children shared that pain. We were twelve when Number Two died. My brother was in the middle of a school spelling bee. We felt that same pain, burning us from the inside out, and we just knew. We moved that night.

We're in Florida now. It's this small, tourist-free town, a village really, and it's peaceful. We've been here a few months and so far my brother hasn't done anything stupid. He's managed to lay low and be quite invisible. I feel that won't last long, not with the way he looks at some of the girls on the beach. It'll just be a matter of time before he pulls some stupid stunt to impress some girl. Just a matter of time.


	2. Chapter One

Title: Letters from the Sky

Author: WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk

Fandom: I Am Number Four, 2011

Characters: Henri, John, Sarah, Sam, Number Six, Mark/OC

Rating: T – M

Disclaimer: I do not own I Am Number Four. Everything belongs to their respective owners.

Summary: On Lorien, one is never whole unless both sides of the coin are accounted for. On Earth, one is just never whole. The Number Fours will change that.

* * *

><p>My brother and I were seventeen when Number Three died. I remember sitting at home, reading a book, and the pain just started ripping through my forearm. I screamed, I know I did. The next thing I knew, I was in Henri's arms and he was holding me under the shower spray to cool me off. It wouldn't have really bothered me, that pain that was becoming so familiar. What bothered me was that that time I saw him die. Number Three, I mean. I felt the knife pass through me. I felt my skin turn to dust.<p>

Henri took me back to the bedroom I shared with my brother and laid me down on my bed. He covered me with my thin blankets. Even in March Florida was pretty warm at night. He rubbed his hands over my hair, trying to soothe me. He whispered comforts I knew meant nothing, but it was still nice to hear them. Maybe, for just a bit, I could pretend that everything was alright in my dreams. The last thing Henri said to me was that he was going out to find my brother.

My shoulders shook. I forgot he had gone out with some kids from school. This was the first time we had gone through the pain alone. It was odd, to not have my brother by my side. We usually rode out the pain and the lingering shocks of terror together, curled up under a blanket. I was cold without him beside me. When I knew Henri was gone, I slipped out of my own bed and into my brother's .He never minded. I waited for him and Henri to return until nearly two in the morning, but my eyes slid closed and I slept. It wasn't very peaceful.

The next morning, Henri and my brother showed up at our house. Henri gave the order to pack and I turned to do as he said. My brother pulled me into his arms before I was able to take a step and mumbled apologies into my hair. I hugged him back and told him it was alright; it wasn't his fault this time. We retreated to our room and began to stuff what clothes we had into duffle bags. As soon as I was done, I took my bag and my guitar out to the Jeep and strapped it safely inside. Then I went to help Henri pack his equipment faster.

When Henri and I took the last of the equipment to the Jeep, Henri threw a stack of things my brother had kept on our wall into the fire.

"I told you not to keep this crap," he said. "It only slows us down."

My brother watched it burn. I sighed and wished that the only two men in my life could just see eye to eye once.

"Alright. Let's go," Henri said, throwing our Florida license plate into the fire.

My brother stood, and I hugged him before we both joined our protector in the Jeep. My brother took the passenger seat, as it was his turn, and I made myself comfortable among our bags and equipment. We drove for the rest of the day and into the night. My iPod broke my silence. I had put together a playlist for when we ran. Most of them were things nobody really listened to, but they spoke to me for some reason. My brother let his own music fill his ears and we left Henri in the silence he prefers. When we finally stopped, we pulled into this little junky motel at way past midnight. My brother and I fell into one of the double beds and left Henri the other one.

When we woke up the next morning, Henri had already been to the store to buy a few things. I sat on the bed and nibbled on a cracker and watched my brother mix up the bleaching kit Henri had gotten for him. Seeing as my hair was already so blonde it was practically white, I wasn't about to try that stuff on my head. Henri flipped through a few folders before laying down a plastic card in front of my brother and handing one to me.

"These are your new I.D.s. And this time, you stay out of sight. No school, no teams. Nothing."

"John Smith," my brother said. "Very original."

"I don't want to be original. I want to be invisible."

I looked down at mine. My smiling face stared back. Ava Smith, it read.

"This time was different," my brother, John, said. "I didn't just get a scar. I, uh, I saw Number Three. I felt the knife. I felt him die. I could tell we all did. The others."

I looked down at my arm and stared at the still fresh burn scar.

"We should get moving," Henri said. "Mogadorians could have already picked up our scent. We're going to Paradise. I have business to take care of."

John and I nodded. We knew arguing would be useless.

The drive to Paradise, Ohio took forever. John and I switched between the passenger seat and the back of the Jeep, but eventually we all ended up in the front; the back of the Jeep leaks. Rain poured down from the sky and it was all I could do not to look back every two minutes to see if my guitar was alright. After a few hours I ended up cuddled and dozing under one of John's arms. His head was leaned against the window, but I knew he wasn't asleep. He was taking in our new home. Who knew paradise could be so dreary.

We drove around a bit before Henri pulled into a long, overgrown driveway. There was a sign amid the tall grass that dubbed the house in foreclosure. Henri stopped the Jeep and jumped out into the rain. He pulled the sign out of the ground and tossed it away. I sighed and hoped that the house at least had electricity. What I could see of the house through the rain, it seemed pretty decent. Two stories with a small porch. A light blue color.

The inside of the house screamed fixer, but it had a bit of promise. There was still some furniture left by the last owners, a few chairs, a table in the kitchen, the refrigerator. There was even a brick fireplace. My brother and I headed up the stairs to claim a bedroom for ourselves. The stairs in the kitchen led directly up into a big open room that had a king sized bed covered in plastic. John and I threw our bags down and went back to examining the room.

John spotted a hole in one wall behind a falling poster and sighed. Henri peeked through and John thrust the poster back against the wall. I stared at the football player and vowed then and there that that poster would not be staying. Henri walked through the door and pointed at the poster.

"That's Bernie Kozar. Played football. Yeah, he played for Cleveland."

"Hm," my brother said. "Good to know. Next time I get to pick the place."

"Yeah," Henri agreed as he walked down the stairs.

John and I came down a little while later to try and find something to eat. Henri was setting up his equipment in front of the windows in the dining room. He sent John out for a few more cases from the Jeep. I watched him roll his eyes, but do as he was told. I opened the door for him. John shook off the water from his jacket and set the cases on the floor.

"That's all of it. I'm going to bed."

"Whoa, whoa. I need a new picture," Henri said motioning for John to step in front of him. "We have to wipe out everything that hits the internet. Say 'Paradise'."

He snapped the picture. The computer programs began working automatically and found a picture of my brother on the internet in seconds.

"Oh, shit," my brother sighed.

"This is why I need you to be invisible. Ava - ," he stopped when there was a banging noise from outside.

Something scratched at the door. Henri flipped off the lights and John and I hid behind a half destroyed wall. My brother's hand found mine in the darkness. Henri grabbed his knife, the crystal glowing blue, and crept to the door. He opened the door, but nothing happened. Only the rain and thunder greeted him. John and I slunk out from out hiding spot to look over Henri's shoulder.

"Get back inside," Henri said, but John ignored him.

I stood in the doorway with Henri, wondering what my brother was doing. He crouched down in front of a bush and what he did was blocked from our view, but when John stood he had a small dog in his arms. He climbed back up the stairs and said,

"Kind of small for a Mogadorian, don't you think?"

I covered my mouth so Henri couldn't hear me giggle. We brought the dog in and I filled a bowl with water while John went in search for a towel to dry him off with. I looked at Henri.

"I'm sure he belongs to someone," he said.

"He doesn't have any collar or tags," John said, scooping the dog into his arms to finish drying him off. "Somebody, somewhere must miss you, huh?"

Henri shook his head and sighed. I kept to the doorway incase another disagreement blossomed between the two.

"C'mon," John insisted. "Another pair of eyes and ears watching the house? I'm gonna need somebody to talk to."

"Talk to me," Henri said.

John gave him that look that I was all too familiar with.

"Yeah. Keep the dog," Henri said once he realized what he had said.

Or protector walked into another room and called back as an afterthought,

"What are you gonna call him?"

"How about Bernie Kozar?"

"John," I said, "we are not naming the poor thing Bernie Kozar."


	3. Chapter Two

Title: Letters from the Sky

Author: WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk

Fandom: I Am Number Four, 2011

Characters: Henri, John, Sarah, Sam, Number Six, Mark/OC

Rating: T – M

Disclaimer: I do not own I Am Number Four. Everything belongs to their respective owners.

Summary: On Lorien, one is never whole unless both sides of the coin are accounted for. On Earth, one is just never whole. The Number Fours will change that.

* * *

><p>The day after we arrived in Paradise, Ohio, my brother and I knew we wouldn't be able to keep our promise to stay out of sight. We could do no teams, but there was no way my brother and I could stay in that house all day every day with Henri and not lose our minds. We sat up late into the night, talking about what we would have to do to lay low. Eventually my brother got out of our bed to forge our documents. I was dozing in and out by the time he crawled back in bed.<p>

The next morning we both got up and began to get ready to go to school. Who knew right? Teenagers actually willing to go to school. My brother just threw on a t shirt and jeans, as was his norm. I took a bit more time with my appearance. Don't get me wrong: I'm not conceited. I don't really even think I'm that pretty, but I have to take the time to cover up my Lorien birthmark. It was an odd pattern of circles, triangles, and squares that wrapped around my neck like a necklace and draped down to end just above the swell of my breasts. My brother is lucky. His birthmark is just a chunk of the same pattern above his right hip.

After I made sure it was covered up by plenty of concealer, I threw on a black tank top and my sky blue and white cardigan. As it was still pretty muddy after last night's rain, I pulled on my black skinny jeans instead of my white ones. There was no point in wearing them just to have them stained. My necklace, a broken half circle with mine and my brother's Lorien symbol on it dangled just under my tank. I slipped into my black sneakers and joined my brother as he walked down the stairs.

"What are you doing up?" Henri asked as we walked down the stairs. He didn't turn away from his computers.

"We changed our minds," John said, getting a drink of water right from the faucet. I smacked the back of his head and offered him a glass. He smiled and ignored me.

"About what?"

"Look, uh, as much fun as you are to be around," John said, "I can't be a prisoner. I have to go to school"

"No. No way. Too risky."

"Think about it, Henri," I said. "We're just going to end up at each other's throats, and then someone is going to do something stupid."

"You mean me," John said.

"Don't I always?" I teased.

"Number Three was completely off the grid and the Mogs got him," my brother said. "It didn't save him."

"Uh uh," Henri grunted.

"Look," John pleaded, "I'm gonna be safe if I blend in. I promise I'll keep a low profile."

Henri turned around and put a hand on John's chest to stop him from moving.

"Even if I let you, and I'm not, you can't just waltz into school and start - ,"

"You think you're the only one who can forge documents?" John interrupted.

I stood back at the sink and let them go at it. It was usually better if they worked these things out for themselves. I took the time to find my grey messenger bag and make sure all my things were in it.

"Hm," Henri said thoughtfully. "Do you have - ,"

"Five days of rations, spare clothes, GPS, cash?" John interrupted again.

"What's your name?" Henri asked.

"John Smith."

"Where are you from?"

"Toronto."

"Seem kind of tan for Toronto."

"Santa Fe, New Mexico," John said. "I know the drill, okay?"

Henri sighed in defeat.

"You keep this on you all the time. I'll call you every hour," Henri said handing him a cell phone. "You don't pick up, I know something's wrong."

"C'mon," John whined. "Every hour?"

"That or you can homeschool and I'll be your teacher."

John gave in and took the phone and brushed passed Henri.

"Hey, John," he said catching my brother's shoulder, "Don't be stupid. You keep your head down."

"I know how to blend in," John insisted and walked out the door.

I slung my bag over shoulder and walked over to Henri. I wrapped my arms around him in a hug. He hugged me back.

"Don't worry about him," I said quietly. "He usually realizes that he's wrong."

"Really? I've never heard him say so."

"Never heard you say it either, Henri," I said and kissed him on the cheek.

He pressed a phone into my hand and kissed me back.

"We'll be back in a few hours, okay? I'll call if something happens."

"Alright. Be safe. Keep an eye on your brother."

"I will. Bye, Henri," I called as I closed the door.

I threw my blonde-white hair up into a messy ponytail as I jogged to catch up to my brother. I slipped my hand into his jacket pocket and entwined our fingers. We walked silently until we could see the school and the mass of students gathering around us.

"Henri means well," I told him. "He's only worried about us. About you. Don't be too harsh on him, okay?"

"I know," he sighed.

We walked up the stairs of the school and pressed our way through the crowd of other students to the office. My brother handed our fake paperwork over to the woman behind the desk and she informed us that she would be right back with our schedules. John slumped down in an empty chair and I roamed the office, looking at things posted on the walls. I turned and caught John listening into a private conversation in the office behind him. I was going to scold him but a man stormed out of the office and made me jump before I could. Again, before I could scold my brother for eavesdropping, the woman behind the desk called us up to explain our schedules.

She explained where our classes and lockers were, but decided to procure us a guide as well.

"Oh, Sarah," she called to a girl that just walked out of the office. "Could you show our friends to their lockers? They're from Santa Fe."

We followed Sarah through the halls. She pointed out a few of the classes on out schedules as we passed them. I was well enough to leave her alone. John wasn't.

"So what kind of camera do you use?" he asked.

"Eavesdropping," she said. "That's not going to win you friends."

I rolled my eyes and kicked my brother in the ankle. He turned back and gave me a sour look.

"Tell that to the principle with a fish tank for an office. It's kind of hard not to hear."

Sarah smiled. "I'm sorry. This whole place is kind of a fish tank."

She paused and pointed behind my brother.

"Well room seven is down the hall and that's your locker right there. Good luck. Um," she paused.

"Oh," my brother said. "John Smith."

"Mmkay," she sighed. "You don't want to tell me your name. That's fine."

She turned to me and motioned for me to follow her down the hall.

"I'm sorry about my brother," I said. "He gets tongue tied sometimes."

"Don't worry about it," Sarah said.

"I'm Ava," I said. "And he wasn't kidding. His name really is John Smith."

"Oh," she said. "I'm sorry. I just – ."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "We get that a lot."

"Oh, um, this is your locker," Sarah said, pointing to the metal box labeled 259.

"Thanks," I said.

"No problem. Good luck and, um, tell your brother I'm sorry."

"Sure."

When she left I couldn't help but wonder about her. She just seemed odd to me. It turned out that my locker was right next to my first class, Calculus. I slid into the classroom quietly and took a seat at the back. My brother joined me shortly after, but he was tense and wouldn't look me in the eye. I put a hand on his arm to draw his attention.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Just met he quarterback. He's glad to have another cheerleader in the stands," John said sourly.

"Good God, I hate school hierarchy," I sighed.

"No kidding," John said.

We didn't get a chance to finish our conversation as the teacher walked in and hushed the class. We sat through the class and took notes, though this class was farther behind than our last one in Florida. I watched John out of the corner of my eye and when the bell rang to signal the end of the period I slid my hand into his. He smiled at me.


	4. Chapter Three

Title: Letters from the Sky

Author: WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk

Fandom: I Am Number Four, 2011

Characters: Henri, John, Sarah, Sam, Number Six, Mark/OC

Rating: T – M

Disclaimer: I do not own I Am Number Four. Everything belongs to their respective owners.

Summary: On Lorien, one is never whole unless both sides of the coin are accounted for. On Earth, one is just never whole. The Number Fours will change that.

* * *

><p>My brother and I made it through fourth period before our schedules deviated from one another. For fifth period he had American English while I had a free period. I didn't know where to go. I was standing at my locker, chewing on my lip and trying to think of something, when Sarah walked passed me.<p>

"Sarah," I said, catching her arm.

"Ava," she smiled.

"Hi, um, I have a free period. I don't exactly know where to go," I said quietly.

"Oh, most people go out to the football field or sit out on the track field. It really doesn't matter as long as you aren't disturbing someone's class."

She smiled. I tried to smile back, but I have a suspicion that I failed.

"Do – is there a music room or something?" I asked desperately.

I was about fed up with all the questions for the new kids. My brother was handling it better than I was. For some reason it was just getting to me this time. I wanted time to sit and relax and not have to worry about anything. I wish I had thought to bring my guitar from the house.

"Yeah," she said. "C'mon, I'll walk you."

"No, it's okay. Just point me in the right direction."

"You're sure?"

I nodded.

"Okay. The music room is in a building by itself. Go down that hallway," she pointed, "and out the doors at the end. There's a sidewalk that will take you down that way. It's two buildings over. You can't miss it. The door is covered in music posters and photographs."

"Thank you, so much," I breathed.

"Any time," she said.

I waved goodbye and made my way to the hall way she pointed out. As I passed all the classrooms down that wing, I searched my bag to make sure I had my sheet music and pen. I pulled out my folder full of loose sheet music, some of it blank and some of it written on, and thumbed through it to make sure I had all of the piece I needed. I stuffed everything back into my bag and pushed the outside doors open.

For March in rainy Ohio, it was surprisingly sunny outside. I stopped just to look. The grass was really green for this early in the year. There were puddles of mud lining the sidewalk. The sky was clear. And, for the first time that day, there was not a soul in sight. I started down the sidewalk, looking for the door Sarah described. It was there, two buildings down, just like she said. I tried the doorknob, but it was locked. There went my peace for the day.

I sighed and rested my head against the cool metal of the door, trying to discourage the oncoming frustration headache. I let the past few days wash over me. With those images finally quiet, I concentrated on my brother. I closed my eyes and I saw what he did. I saw his classroom and the other students as he looked at them. He obviously felt me in his head. He wrote something down and I laughed when he looked at it so I could read it.

_Get out of my head, Ava. Go enjoy your free period. And call Henri so he'll stop calling me._

I blinked a few times and shook my head and I was back in my own body.

I didn't register what had happened before I had spun around and clocked some kid in the jaw. I gasped and covered my mouth with my hands. The kid groaned and rubbed his face. He opened and closed his mouth a few times to make sure he was alright. Unfortunately, being Lorien and not human, I have more strength than I realize sometimes. I could already see the bruise sprouting on the side of his face.

"I am so sorry," I whispered.

"No, it's my fault," he ground out. "I snuck up on you."

"I am so sorry," I said again.

"It's alright. You have one hell of a left hook though."

"Geeze," I sighed, sinking back into the door. "My first day and I manage to punch some guy in the face. God, my luck sucks!"

He laughed, and it wasn't until that sound met my ears that I actually really looked at him. He was, well, in one word he was hot. He had pale skin and chocolate brown hair that he had pushed to the side, though it still fell in his eyes. Ohmigod, those eyes. I'd never seen someone with eyes so clear a blue. I was kind of shocked. So not only did I manage to punch some kid in the face on my first day, I managed to punch a really cute kid in the face.

"Yeah," he agreed. "You're luck sucks."

"Thank you," I said bitterly.

"C'mon, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just trying to see if you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" I asked.

"Well, you were just kind of standing there. I thought something might be wrong," he shrugged.

"Great. So not only do I manage to punch some guy in the face on my first day, I manage to punch the guy trying to make sure I was _okay_ in the face!"

My headache was back in full force. I rubbed my temples and tried to sooth it back into the recesses of my mind. The guy I had punched was looking at me funny.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I have a headache and I was trying to get it to go away. I guess I didn't hear you behind me."

"I'm Mark James," he said holding out his hand.

"Ava Smith," I said, shaking it.

Instead of letting go he began to pull me along somewhere.

"Whoa, whoa. Where are you taking me?"

"To the cafeteria. I have a feeling I'm going to need some ice for this nice little bruise you gave me and you could probably use some for your headache."

"Okay, okay," I said pulling my hand back. "I'll _walk_ with you to the cafeteria. No need to drag me. Not like I can say no to the guy I just punched in the face anyway."

"Exactly," he grinned.

Mark led me back into the building and towards the front of the school. I followed him quietly. He glanced back at me occasionally. I kind of wondered why.

"So, you're new to town?" he asked.

"Yeah. Just got here a yesterday."

"And you came straight to school?"

"I didn't want to sit around the house with my dad," I said quietly. "He's kind of boring."

"So is my dad. He just likes to work."

"Yeah," I agreed.

Mark suddenly stopped and pointed to a set of doors.

"Just for future reference," he said, "this is where the cafeteria is. Don't eat the food."

"Good to know."

Mark opened the door and let me in before him. I paused and let him take the lead again. It's not like I knew where he was going. He waved to some of the lunch ladies and continued back behind the kitchen door to a deep freezer. He opened the freezer and pulled out a couple of ice packs. He wrapped them each in a towel and handed one to me. I thanked him and put my bag on the floor, jumping up to take a seat on the freezer. He did the same. I pressed the ice pack to my head.

"So, Ava Smith, where did you get a left hook like that?" he questioned.

"We lived in a big city when I was younger. My dad couldn't always take us places so he taught me and my brother a few things to keep us safe."

"Your brother? His name John?"

"Yeah. How did you – You're the quarter back," I sighed.

Figures I would make kind-of-friends with someone that made bad with my brother.

"Yeah. How did _you_ know?" he asked.

"You rub my brother the wrong way," I said flatly. "He tells me everything."

"Well this is kind of embarrassing," Mark said.

"Don't worry about it. It takes him a bit to get used to new people."

"And you like new people?"

"No, I despise new people. But it's not like I can tell you to piss off. I punched you in face."

"If I'm annoying you –," he said.

"No," I interrupted. "Really. I just get frustrated with it sometimes. We move around a lot."

"Sorry," he said.

"No. Nothing to be sorry for."

We sat in an awkward silence for a minute before he asked,

"What were you doing outside the music room?"

"Sarah, the girl that showed me and my brother around, told me where it was. I was going to ask if there was a piano I could play."

"There is not," Mark said. "The music teacher has been trying to get the funding for one for years, but he's never been able to."

"Oh well," I sighed.

"Here," Mark said. He moved around until he could pull his wallet out of his back pocket. He flipped it open and handed me a card. "That's got the address of the music shop in town. They've got a few pianos for sale. I bet if you ask really nice they'll let you play them. If not, then there's always the one at the church."

"Thank you, Mark," I whispered.


	5. Chapter Four

Title: Letters from the Sky

Author: WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk

Fandom: I Am Number Four, 2011

Characters: Henri, John, Sarah, Sam, Number Six, Mark/OC

Rating: T – M

Disclaimer: I do not own I Am Number Four. Everything belongs to their respective owners.

Summary: On Lorien, one is never whole unless both sides of the coin are accounted for. On Earth, one is just never whole. The Number Fours will change that.

* * *

><p>My brother met me at my locker. We had lunch after my free period. He handed me my sandwich out of the paper bag he had and I began to tear into it before we even made it outside. John weaved through the tables already filled with other people and found an uncrowded area of grass for us to sit on. I plopped down and took the last bite of my sandwich.<p>

"John," I said after I swallowed, "we need to talk."

"About what?" he asked.

I could tell he was fearful of something already being wrong.

"Relax. Nothing's wrong."

He sighed.

"I met Mark James."

"You met Mark James?"

"Yeah. I punched him in the face."

My brother looked at me for a minute before he burst out laughing. I waited for him to settle back down to raise my eyebrows.

"Why did you punch him in the face?" he said, a few laughs still shaking him.

"It was when I was in your head," I said quietly. "I was facing a wall and apparently I looked sick or something because he felt the need to make sure I was alright. Anyway, he snuck up on me and I reacted. He has a very nice bruise."

"Left hook?" John grinned.

"Shut up," I said playfully.

"Hey Spock!" I hear someone yell.

My brother and I look over in just enough time to see a kid be pegged in the head with a football. He dropped to the ground and his slushie went everywhere. He looked around, dazed for a moment, before he realized what had happened.

"Heads up, UFO Brother!"

I turned around to see Mark and I guess two of his friends. They were both snickering. For some reason I felt majorly disappointed that the boy that was so civil to me only half an hour ago was being such a dickhead in front of other people.

When I turned back, John had left my side and was helping the kid up. It seems my brother had picked up a stray in my absence.

"Yo, new dude!" one of Mark's friends called. "A little help?"

He motioned for the football.

I looked back between the ball, my brother, and Mark's friend and came to the almost instant conclusion that nothing good was going to come of the situation. I felt my brother's anger flash through him and he reached over to pick up the football. He threw it with the perfect spiral I knew he had and the kid that caught it hit the ground. I snickered behind my hand.

Mark and the third kid scurried to help their friend off the ground, but he brushed them off.

"Jesus," Mark said in disbelief to my brother. "C'mon man."

He looked around, as if he was finally noticing who he was talking to, and his eyes met mine. I was almost blown away again, but before I could be I remembered what I had just witnessed and what my brother said about social hierarchies. I stared back and frowned. He looked almost as disappointed as I felt as he turned and followed his friends back into the school building like a dog with its tail between its legs.

What snapped me back to reality was the somewhat familiar click of a camera lens. I looked around to find Sarah holding her infamous camera. Her subject was my brother. I sighed and rubbed my head. My headache was coming back.

* * *

><p>Turns out, my brother and I have next afternoon class with Mark. After lunch, the three of us had American History, which, thankfully, was boring enough that I could put my head down without anyone noticing. Not so thankfully, the teacher decided that, as brother and sister, John and I were going to cheat off each other in her class. She placed us on opposite sides of the room. John got to sit next to some awkward but nice looking boy. I got to sit by Mark. Whoopee for me.<p>

The teacher gave us our books and began the lesson, which consisted of turning on some old black and white video about World War II. I sat back in my chair and thanked God that I was near the back of the class. I tried to watch the video, but my mind kept wandering around the room and eventually I just started to downright ignore the monotone narration. I was staring at a light up globe on a shelf when something tapped me on the back. I turned slightly and found Mark trying to hand me a folded up piece of paper. I rolled my eyes, but, not wanting to make a scene on my first day, took the paper. I unfolded it and read:

_How's your head?_

I quickly picked up my pen and scribbled back.

_Fine._

I refolded the paper and slid it back to him, the teacher none the wiser, and hoped that was the end of it. I've never been that lucky. He handed it back just as quickly as I had.

_How's your day been?_

_Fine,_ I wrote.

I didn't even bother to fold the paper this time. I just put it on his desk. It took him longer to write back, and for the barest moment, I hoped he wouldn't.

_Is something wrong?_

I turned in my desk and met his eyes. I crumpled the paper and threw it into the trash from my seat.

"Look, Mark," I whispered angrily. "When you decide to grow a brain, think about this: I don't like bullies. Now, as you've proved my brother's suspicion that you are one, leave me alone."

I turned back in my seat and didn't look back the rest of the class period. With nothing left to do, I placed my attention back on the video and hoped it would make the rest of the class go by more quickly.

I felt my brother pressing in on my mind, wondering what that had all been about, but I closed him out with a quick _I'll tell you later._ I spent the rest of the class with my brother's mind pressing in on my mine with an effort to comfort instead to dreg for information.

My last class of the day was American Literature. I had this class with Mark, but not my brother. Fortunately, the only open desk was on the opposite side of the room. I actually ended up sitting by Sarah. We smiled at each other and I noticed the camera in her hands. I pointed at it.

"Take as many as you want of my brother, but please don't take any of me," I said.

She laughed. "Sure. I get that some people aren't very photogenic. This is actually to try and get a picture of Mark's face."

"Why?" I asked.

"Let's just say that you don't whisper as quietly as you think you do," she smirked.

My face burned with a heavy blush. I ducked my head and asked,

"Did the whole class hear?"

"I'm surprised the hallway didn't hear. But don't worry. You won't get in trouble. Mrs. Thompson likes to watch student drama unfold."

"It's not the teachers I'm worried about," I sighed.

"Don't worry about Mark either," she said thoughtfully. "You embarrassed him. Not many people are willing to tell him that he's a bully."

"Oh, no," I scoffed. "I'm worried about my brother. If he thinks Mark is bothering me then I'm going to have a fight on my hands. My brother can be a bit over protective."

"Do you ever realize that you don't call John by his name very often?" she said, changing the subject of our conversation suddenly.

I shrugged. "One of the schools we went to when we were younger had a bunch of Johns. I didn't want to call him by his full name so I just started calling him 'my brother'."

That's not the real reason. The real reason was that we usually never had the same name for long. I started to just call him 'brother' instead of risking a mix up of names. We don't use our real names, our Lorien names, for the same reason. That and because they'd probably sound strange to humans. And, as Henri likes to keep reminding us, being memorable is deadly.

I made it through my last class without any incident. First time I've been lucky in years. Every once in a while I would catch Mark glancing my way, but I made sure not to catch his eye. I suppose he was still embarrassed about what I said. Well it serves him right. He shouldn't be a bully to begin with.


	6. Chapter Five

Title: Letters from the Sky

Author: WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk

Fandom: I Am Number Four, 2011

Characters: Henri, John, Sarah, Sam, Number Six, Mark/OC

Rating: T – M

Disclaimer: I do not own I Am Number Four. Everything belongs to their respective owners.

Summary: On Lorien, one is never whole unless both sides of the coin are accounted for. On Earth, one is just never whole. The Number Fours will change that.

* * *

><p>I stopped by my locker to deposit my books before I met my brother at the front of the school. I hesitated a moment before just leaving all my school supplies. It was a relief to only have my sheet music resting on my shoulders again. I buckled my messenger bag closed again and shut my locker a little harder than was probably necessary. What could I say? It had been a more stressful day than I planned.<p>

The halls were pretty empty when I looked around, but that was to be expected. I was taking my sweet time for a reason. I wanted a quiet, peaceful walk back to the house with my brother. I should have known better than to wish for something so specific like that. I turned from my locker and almost ran right into Mark James' chest. I ever mention that he's a good head and a half taller than me? Just like my brother is.

I closed my eyes, sighed, and walked around him. I ruffled my white blonde hair and tried to make it to the doors fast, just in case he tried to catch me. He did. Catch me, I mean. Caught me by the wrist and brought my get away to a halt.

"What do you want, Mark?" I asked, tearing my wrist out of his grip.

"I just want to talk to you," he said.

"Talk to me like you talk to Sam? No thanks," I snorted.

I turned and began walking towards the front doors again.

"Wait, Ava! Please!" he tried again.

"Why?" I asked facing him. "Why should I wait? You've already proved that you're a bully and as I've said before: I don't tolerate them. I don't want to be your _friend_, Mark. I want you to _leave me alone_."

"I'm sorry about what I did to Sam, okay? Just give me a chance! Please!" he begged.

"Don't apologize to me! Apologize to Sam! And I gave you a chance. And I liked you! You were nice and you were kind, but it's not what we do when we're alone that makes us who we are, Mark! It's what we do in front of others."

"I'll apologize to Sam, if that's what you want! Ava, I just … Please!"

"I don't want you to apologize because you think I want you to," I said quietly. "I want you to apologize because you think it's the right thing to do."

I turned and walked away. Not because that had to be the end of the conversation. Not because I was scared. I couldn't take that look in those baby blue eyes of his. That hurt, kicked puppy look. It made me want to cuddle him in my arms and wash the hurt away. But he was a bully, and I had my own morals that I live by. And close to the top of the list was NO Bullies.

I finally made my way out of the front doors and to my waiting brother. I twisted my fingers between his and leaned on him in a kind of half hug.

"What took you so long?"

"Nothing," I sighed. "Let's go home. I need a shower and a long night with my guitar. I wonder if Henri cooked."

"Something happened," he pressed. "You don't usually come out of school with a night of playing as the first thing on your mind."

"Mark James caught me in the hall. Relax," she said when he got tense. "It didn't get physical. It didn't even get close to getting physical. I was in no danger what so ever, Big Brother."

"What did he want, then?"

"To talk. I told him I was done talking to him after I found out he was a bully."

"If he bothers you again, let me know. Okay?"

"I can fight my own battles," I insisted quietly. "But if I need help, I promise you'll be the first to know."

"Good. Did you get the homework assignment in English?"

"You are hopeless," I laughed. "Yes, I wrote it down. It's not like you'll actually do it though. You always copy mine."

"Because you always copy my science homework!"

"Because I'm no good at science!"

My brother laughed and pulled his hand away from mine, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. We made the rest of the trip home to Henri in relative silence. My brother made the odd comment about the shops and other houses we passed, but other than that we were just happy to be in each other's presence after being separated.

We made it back to our house and Bernie Kozar, we had yet to agree on a new name, met us at the door. My brother picked him up and went straight upstairs to our room. I put my bag down near the doorway and circled the house looking for Henri. I found him sitting in the dining room looking, as usual, over something on his computers. I laid a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't jump. I would bet anything I owned that Henri had heard us coming up the driveway.

"How was school?" he asked.

"Slightly more stressful than planned, but not too bad. They did the usual routine: made us our schedules, lockers, stuff like that. Had a girl show us to our first class. She's sweet, if a bit mixed up with everything."

"And your brother?" he asked, looking up at me.

"He was fine. I think he has a bit of a crush on the girl that showed us around. He didn't get into any fights, or rub anyone the wrong way. There might be some minor problems later though," I said quietly, "with a guy named Mark James. He's the quarterback, lord of his friends, you know the type."

"Yeah, I do. I also know how much your brother hates them. So why do you sound like you like him?" he asked.

"He talked to me, before I knew who he was. Said I looked sick and wanted to make sure I was alright. I accidentally punched him in the face," Henri snorted, "and he took me to get some ice for his jaw and my headache."

"Sounds nice," our protector commented.

"Sure," I said. "Until he hit some kid in the head with a football at lunch. Knocked him down; he probably has some nice bruises of his own."

"And you don't put up with bullies," Henri smiled.

"I don't know why I talk to you anymore!" I teased. "What's for dinner?"

Henri paused and looked up at me.

"You didn't go get anything to eat, did you?" I asked.

"I forgot. I was checking into some things."

I knew that that was all I was going to get from him. He never told us anything he didn't think we had to know.

"Have you eaten at all today?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

"Guess you forgot that too, huh? You have to eat, Henri. If not for our sake then for your own. I'm going to guilt trip you again if you don't start watching the time."

The last time I figured out Henri wasn't remembering to eat, I guilted him into making sure he did by going on about how he couldn't protect us, the last survivors of our world, if he didn't keep himself healthy. It definitely wasn't the nicest thing I've ever done, but it got the desired result. He moped for a few days, probably something to do with his "warrior duty" or something like that, and then he started making sure to eat regularly. I wasn't above using the same card twice.

I sighed and hugged his neck.

"I'll go get a few things from the store, okay? Just let me go see what John wants for dinner. You got any requests?"

"No pizza," he rumbled. "I don't think I can eat anymore after last time."

I laughed, remembering the pizza disaster back in Chicago. Let's just say my brother, fire, explosions, and a frozen pepperoni pizza were involved and leave it at that.

"I think I can deal with that."

I turned and made my way up the stairs in the kitchen. My brother was laying on our bed with his computer on his lap.

"Anything in particular you want for dinner?" I asked. "And Henri said no pizza."

He snorted and said, "Anything is fine with me, but I don't want one of your vegetarian meals again. That was nasty!"

"It was healthy!" I said. "You're just used to all that junky fast food Henri feeds us when we move."

"I'll take junky over healthy any time," he said, going back to whatever he was doing.

I grabbed a thicker jacket to go over my cardigan before taking the stairs two at a time back down. Henri handed me some cash as I passed him and I kissed him on the head.

"I'll be back in a little while," I called.

"Be careful!" Henri called as I closed the door.

I stuck my hand in my pocket to double check that I had my phone and made my way down the drive way. The house wasn't far from the shops in town, and I remembered seeing a small grocery store when my brother and I walked home. Without really thinking, I pulled out the card that Mark had given me from the music shop in town. I hadn't noticed it on our way home, but the town was small. It couldn't be too hard to find.

I made my way back to the grocery store. The old lady behind the counter the register greeted me and I smile at her, but didn't say anything. I walked up and down each isle, picking up things that were simple and able to be taken with us easily in case we had to move again. The only thing I picked up that we couldn't take was milk. I took the food up to the counter and set it down in front of the woman.

"Good afternoon," she said as she began to rig thing up. "Haven't seen you in here before. Did you just move to Paradise?"

"Yes ma'am," I said. "It's me and my brother and our dad. We just got here yesterday."

"Oh, are you the ones that moved into the old Jensen house? The blue house on the hill?"

"Yes ma'am, that's us."

The woman gave me the total, which was easily covered by the $200 Henri had handed to me, and I paid. I collected the plastic bags and made for the door, but turned back to the woman to ask her a question.

"Could you point me in the direction of the music shop?" I asked quietly.

"Sure," she said. "Go down the block towards the hardware store, and turn left. Cross the next two streets and Harold's is right there on the corner."

"Thank you," I said and headed out the door for home.


	7. Chapter Six

Title: Letters from the Sky

Author: WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk

Fandom: I Am Number Four, 2011

Characters: Henri, John, Sarah, Sam, Number Six, Mark/OC

Rating: T – M

Disclaimer: I do not own I Am Number Four. Everything belongs to their respective owners.

Summary: On Lorien, one is never whole unless both sides of the coin are accounted for. On Earth, one is just never whole. The Number Fours will change that.

* * *

><p>My brother and I were laying on our bed after dinner; he was doing something on the computer and I was reading a book. I can't tell you how many times I've read <em>Of Mice and Men<em>. I stopped counting after fifty-three. My brother stretched out a leg and kicked me. I batted him away without taking my eyes off the paragraph I was reading.

"Invisible," I heard Henri say from the doorway. I looked up from my book at him. He was livid, nearly vibrating from the anger tingling under his skin.

"You heard me when I said that, right? Yeah. Cause I… I remember you being there."

I sighed when Henri left and smacked my brother on the leg. He let his head fall backwards and thunk on the headboard.

"Why?" I asked. "Why do you have to draw the worst attention?"

"I don't know. I don't know," he sighed.

"You have to seriously talk to Sarah about putting our pictures up. Just ask her to take them down."

"How am I supposed to do that?" he asked.

"Give her some lie about being uncomfortable with being on the internet. Tell her Henri is some kind of paranoia freak."

"Henri _is_ a paranoia freak," my brother said.

"Exactly. So you'll have a bit of truth to back your story up. The ability to lie effectively comes with the ability to mix your lies with a bit of the truth to make your story more believable."

"Who are you and what have you done with my sister?" he asked in disbelief.

"Sue me," I snipped, going back to my book. "I've had a rough day."

"So go sit out on the roof with your guitar and don't come back until you're my sister again. You're weird when you get like this. It's creepy."

"I am not creepy," I said.

"You are when you're like this," he said, pushing me off the bed.

I rolled over on the floor and ear marked my page. I tossed my book at my brother's head and went for my guitar case before he could throw it back. I flipped the lid open and pulled out my guitar. I loved this thing. I've had it for years and I never go anywhere without it. Now that I know the school has no piano, I won't be going to school without it either.

My guitar is a Fender T-Bucket 300 acoustic/electric. She's my baby. Sometimes I love her more than my brother, but I suspect that's because she doesn't talk back. I threw open the window next to the stairs and stuck my foot out to see how steep it was. I pulled the rest of my body out onto the roof, then brought my guitar through. I left the window open; whether he said it or not, my brother liked to listen to me play.

I picked a few notes before settling into a familiar tune. It was a song me and my brother had liked for years. Henri liked it too, though it would be like pulling teeth to get him to say so. The odd rhythm wasn't complicated anymore after playing it so many times to get it right.

"_Who wants to know?  
>All that is gold, is rusted<br>No one will know  
>Seasons cease, to change, and.."<em>

I let the words flow off my tongue and my mind drift off. I thought about school. I didn't know if I was going to like it. Nine times out of ten I didn't. My brother was usually the one that got all the attention. I was his quiet sister that liked to keep to herself and her guitar. It wasn't that really. I was just hard pressed to find someone interesting. The world today seemed so fake; full of people that just wanted to go on the easiest path to the biggest reward. No one could match me with intelligent conversation anymore. Everything was all about sports or the opposite sex or 'OMG do you think that tan line will look funny under my new dress?'. I mean, seriously, what is the point?

I thought about Sarah. She seemed like a sweet girl, if a little lost in the world. I wasn't sure yet, if she was going to be trouble for my brother. She seemed like the kind of girl my brother might settle down with, not that we were ever going to get that chance. But, I guess, I wouldn't mind her being around. Just as long as my brother didn't make trouble over her. Lord knows Henri doesn't need any more stress in his life. Especially cause by us two. We've done enough.

"_How far we've gone  
>How far were going<br>So here and the now  
>And the love for the sound<br>Are the moments that keep us moving."_

Mark was an interesting subject. I'd never seen eyes like his before. They were blue, but not just that. They were blue like ice, and like the sky in Texas in the summer. And they were happy. But not when he talked to me in the hallway. Then they were grey. Like storm clouds just before it rains. They were sad. Like he really was sorry that he bullied Sam. But it was more than that. It was almost like the sadness was because of me.

"_Waves crash along  
>Battered lonely lighthouse<br>Tomorrow she's gone  
>And if not, some, they somehow<br>Are, these, hands, always."_

I stuttered my notes when my brother knocked on the window to get my attention.

"I know you just started," he said, "but Henri says you need to come in. It's about to start raining again."

"Okay," I sighed.

"There's a screened in back porch," he told me, trying to make it better.

"No," I said. "That's alright. I am taking my guitar to school with me, though. I have a free period with nowhere to go so I might as well bring something to keep me sane."

"Good idea."

I handed my brother my guitar through the window first, then began the awkward task of getting myself back through the opening. I took my guitar back from my brother and set it gently back in the case. I closed the lid and snapped it closed. My brother wrapped his arms around me from behind and picked me up. I squeaked and he tossed me on the bed. He joined me just after, toeing his shoes off and crawling in under the sheets.

"What time is it?" I yawned.

"Just after nine."

"We are such losers," I laughed. "What kind of teenager goes to bed before midnight?"

"The tired kind," he said.

"True enough. I'm gonna ask you some questions."

"Okay," he agreed.

"What do you think of Sarah?"

He was quiet for a moment.

"She's pretty."

"That's it? You just think she's pretty?"

"I've known her for a day! And so far I don't even think she likes me! What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me the truth! I'm your sister; your twin. If you lie I'll know."

He hugged me and I settled into the warmth of his arms. It wasn't often that we got to do this: just lay in each other's arms and enjoy still being alive. Not that that would last long. We were next in line. We were in serious danger, false security or not.

"I don't know what to think of her yet. Can I ask you a question?" he asked.

"You just did," I laughed. "But ask another one, just for the hell of it!"

"What do you think of Mark James?"

"What makes you think I think anything of him?"

"The way your eyes smile when you say his name," he said.

I buried my face in the pillow.

"I hate you," I grumbled.

"No you don't," he laughed. "I'm your twin."

"I don't know what to think. I'm confused. He's nice to me when it's just us. He made sure I was okay. He even offered to leave cause he thought he was annoying me. And that makes me like him, you know? People these days don't know how to take a hint to piss off. But then he turns around and he's a total asshole to that Sam kid. And then when he tried to talk to me in the halls after school today? He was willing to go humble himself to Sam, who doesn't seem like Mark would give him the time of day, just so I would talk to him again."

It was quiet for a long time and my brother started rubbing that soft spot behind my ear. We found out a few years ago that it puts me out. Like slips me into the best night of sleep ever.

"There's this thing about his eyes," I whispered. "They're so happy sometimes, like there's not a thing in the world wrong, but they were like storm clouds when I told him I didn't want to be his friend. It's weird. They just catch me up and I want that happy feeling too. He confuses me, but in a good way, if, you know, there's a good way to be confused."

"It's the way Sarah smiles," he whispered just as softly. "It's like she has this expectation of what I'll do before I do it and she's surprised when it I do or don't do something. It's nice."

* * *

><p>The song is 'Solider On' by The Temper Trap. I don't own it either.<p> 


	8. Chapter Seven

Title: Letters from the Sky

Author: WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk

Fandom: I Am Number Four, 2011

Characters: Henri, John, Sarah, Sam, Number Six, Mark/OC

Rating: T – M

Disclaimer: I do not own I Am Number Four. Everything belongs to their respective owners.

Summary: On Lorien, one is never whole unless both sides of the coin are accounted for. On Earth, one is just never whole. The Number Fours will change that.

* * *

><p>"Get up! Get up! Get up!" I said shaking my brother. His lazy ass was still in the bed. "We're gonna be late! Get up!"<p>

I had been up for the last half hour and was dressed and ready to go. I wore my grass green sweater with a hood and my white skinny jeans. My hair was in a ponytail again and I had already covered my birthmark. I shook my brother again, extra hard for good measure, then went over to his bag and picked out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. I threw them at him.

"If you're not up, dressed, and downstairs in five minutes then I'm gonna leave without you. And don't think I won't, cause I will," I threatened.

We both knew it was a bluff. I usually never went anywhere without him if I could help it. I mean, I liked to go out and have my quiet time, when it was scarce wherever we were at the time, but I'd never go and spend the entire day without him.

"Bullshit," he mumbled.

"Uh-uh. Do _not_ talk to me before you brush your teeth. You know how I feel about morning breath," I gagged.

"Yeah yeah," he groaned. "I'm up."

He disappeared into the bathroom and I took the stairs two at a time to find Henri reading the a newspaper article on his computer. The headliner read: STEEL WORKER MALCOLM SPELLMAN STILL MISSING. There was a picture of a man who I could only imagine was Malcolm Spellman.

"That business?" I asked.

Henri turned to look at me, then down at his watch. He didn't answer my question.

"You two are going to be late," he said instead.

"Tell me about it. But someone won't get out of the bathroom and HURRY UP!" I yelled the last part up the stairs.

"Eat something before you go," Henri said pointing to a few apples on the counter.

"Ah!" I said delighted. I picked one up and bit into it. "Where did you find these? The grocery store didn't have any."

"There's an apple tree out back," he said, going back to the computer.

"Really? Huh."

I slung my bag over my shoulder and picked up my guitar case. I walked over to Henri and kissed him on the cheek, leaving sticky apple juices behind. I said goodbye and made for the door. My brother caught up with me before I was even half way down the driveway.

"Finally," I said. "Took you long enough."

"You should have woken me up earlier," he grinned, stealing a bite of my apple.

"I have never been responsible for getting you out of bed in the morning. I'm not about to start now."

"Then I guess we're going to have problems," he teased.

"Why have you been sleeping so much?" I asked. "You normally sleep less than I do."

"I don't know. Just, ever since," he dropped his voice to a near inaudible whisper, "Number Three died, I've been exhausted. Like I never get enough sleep no matter what I do."

"Talk to Henri about it," I said quietly. "Maybe it has something to do with Number Three's death. Maybe something in us realizes that we're next and it's reacting. I mean, we really have no idea what's normal for us. Henri should know."

"Yeah. I'll talk to Henri," he agreed.

* * *

><p>When I opened my locker later that morning, I found a red note stuffed through the vents in the door. I looked it over, but there was nothing to tell me who left it. I picked up my Calculus book and stuffed it into my bag.<p>

"C'mon, we're going be late," my brother said.

"Yeah," I agreed, shutting my locker and stuffing the note into my pocket.

We made it to Calculus just before the bell rang. I took my seat and tried to pay attention. The rest of the day went on like this; I would try to pay attention, but I just couldn't. I was distracted for some reason through all my classes. When my free period finally rolled around, I wished my brother luck with his class and made my way back out to the music building. It had been fairly deserted the day before, and I just wanted some time alone.

I walked around the building, I didn't want to stay in view for just anyone to walk by, and found a set of concrete steps that lead up to the back door of the music building. I sat on them, as I didn't want grass stains on my white pants, and felt the note I had shoved into my pocket that morning poke me. I wiggled it out of my pocket and unfolded it.

_Ava,_

_I'm sorry I was such a dick. Sometimes I don't know what to do around pretty girls and I make an ass of myself. I'll apologize to Sam. Will you talk to me?_

_Mark_

I crumpled the paper in my fist. I wasn't going to be bought with some pretty words and paper. Mark could shove them down his throat, for all the good that note was going to do. My hands shook. I tossed the paper on the ground and unlatched my guitar case. The cool wood felt reassuring in my hands. I pulled my pick from between two of the strings.

"_If I die young, bury me in satin  
>Lay me down on a, bed of roses<br>Sink me in the river, at dawn  
>Send me away with the words of a love song<em>

Uh oh, uh oh

"

I wrote this song when we lived in Dallas, Texas. It was a Friday and my brother had gotten into a fight with one of the other kids from school. We were fifteen. The school called an ambulance before they called Henri and, as a result, the paramedics carted him to the hospital to make sure his jaw wasn't broken. I rode with them, ripping my brother a new one the whole time, and we made it to the hospital about an hour before Henri.

While my brother was checked in, I didn't have anything to do, so I picked a random floor and wandered around. I didn't want to be there when Henri gave my brother his lecture about blending in and staying out of sight. I ended up in the pediatrics wing. I made myself comfortable in the waiting room and about ten minutes later a girl about my age or a little older came and sat with me. I remember her very well.

"_Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother  
>She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and<br>Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no  
>Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby<em>

The sharp knife of a short life, well  
>I've had, just enough time"<p>

"_Hi," she said, sitting down in a chair next to mine._

"_Hi," I said back._

"_What are you here for? You another surgery patient?" she asked._

"_What? No," I said, "my brother got into a fight. He's down stairs making sure his jaw's not broken. I didn't want to be there when my dad read him the riot act."_

"_Oh," she said._

"_What are you here for?" I asked quietly._

"_Brain cancer," she said. "Inoperable."_

"_I'm sorry," I whispered._

"_I'm not. If I go while I'm still young I'm gonna ask God to make me into a rainbow so I can watch over my momma. She's workin' two jobs to pay for all of this."_

_So far the only thing I thought of this girl was that she was strange._

"_There's a whole bunch of stuff that I'll regret not doin',"she said, " but you don't wanna hear that. Nobody ever wants to listen to the dying girl."_

"_You have to tell somebody," I said. "Why don't you tell me?"_

_She laughed._

"_You are one strange girl, but I guess I will now that you asked."_

So she did. She told me about all the things she was going to miss, and about all the things she wished she had the chance to do. We kept in touch, as much as we could anyway, with Henri moving us around. Then one day, when I called her, she just didn't pick up.

"_If I die young, bury me in satin  
>Lay me down on a, bed of roses<br>Sink me in the river, at dawn  
>Send me away with the words of a love song<em>

The sharp knife of a short life, well  
>I've had, just enough time<p>

And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom  
>I'm as green as the ring on my little, cold finger, I've<br>Never known the lovin' of a man  
>But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand, there's a<br>Boy here in town who says he'll love me forever,  
>Who would have thought forever could be severed by<br>The sharp knife of a short life, well,  
>I've had, just enough time<p>

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls  
>What I never did is done<p>

A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar  
>They're worth so much more after I'm a goner<br>And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'  
>Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'<p>

If I die young, bury me in satin  
>Lay me down on a, bed of roses<br>Sink me in the river, at dawn  
>Send me away with the words of a love song<p>

Uh oh (uh, oh)  
>The ballad of a dove (uh, oh)<br>Go with peace and love  
>Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket<br>Save them for a time when you're really gonna need them, oh

The sharp knife of a short life, well  
>I've had, just enough time<p>

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls"

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><p>So sorry! Did not mean for this to be such a depressing chapter! The next one will be better! I promise!<p> 


	9. Chapter Eight

Title: Letters from the Sky

Author: WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk

Fandom: I Am Number Four, 2011

Characters: Henri, John, Sarah, Sam, Number Six, Mark/OC

Rating: T – M

Disclaimer: I do not own I Am Number Four. Everything belongs to their respective owners.

Summary: On Lorien, one is never whole unless both sides of the coin are accounted for. On Earth, one is just never whole. The Number Fours will change that.

* * *

><p>It all fell to pieces two weeks later. I had been putting up with Mark almost constantly. Not face to face; he seemed to think that was a no-no. I couldn't say I blamed him, and most of the school didn't either. Everyone but Sarah and Sam thought I was off the deep end and still going. I didn't understand why they didn't get it. I didn't like bullies, plain and simple. It wasn't against Mark personally, well I mean it was, but that wasn't the point!<p>

Anyway, it all fell to pieces, that's the actual point. Remember how Sarah told me that our History teacher likes to watch student drama unfold? Yeah, this is all her fault. Apparently not only does she like to watch student drama unfold, she likes to meddle in it. That's how I ended up in that situation. Not by fate. Not some twisted line of events. Just one teacher meddling in student's lives more than she should have. That's the only possible reason I could have ended up with Mark James as a research partner.

So there it is. The event that brought about everything that followed. That one stupid, stupid event. Mark James? Oh, he couldn't have been happier. Not that he showed it or anything. But I knew. So we were partnered up and given World War II France as a research project. Simple enough. Then Mrs. Thompson started to throw in rules. Rule 1: We could not have help from any parents. Rule 2: We could not use just the internet; we had to use books as well. Rule 3: Our research projects were not to be done at school.

Which means I would have to spend time with Mark James _outside of school_.

Now to most of you reading this (who I do believe are female), this may not sound so bad. I have to spend time with an admittedly attractive high school quarterback away from school. Probably at his house (there is no way I'm taking him to meet Henri. Not even the worst bully deserves to be interrogated by my father-figure.). To me? To me this is the worst possible thing that could happen. I don't want to spend time with Mark James. Yes, he's cute. Yes, he makes my insides tingle. But he's a flipping bully! But I didn't have a choice. I had to do it.

So this brings us to where we are now. Everybody caught up? Good.

I sat in Mark's passenger seat. I wasn't very happy and I was going to leave as soon as I could. I'd even fake ill if I had to. He was silent next to me and his hands were wrapped so tightly around the wheel that his knuckles were going white. His silhouette was outlined by the window on the other side of him. His eyes were really pretty. I shook my head and reminded myself of whom I was thinking about. But his tee shirt did fit him really well.

_Stop it, self,_ I thought.

I looked around when Mark slowed down and turned into a long gravel driveway. On the other end, behind a group of trees, there was a white two-story house with columns along the porch. There was a county cop car parked in the driveway. Mark pulled up beside it and parked. He got out and I slowly followed. He walked up to the porch then turned around to make sure I was still there; I guess that's what he was doing, anyway.

"What?" I asked.

It was the first word I had spoken to him in two weeks.

"Uh, nothing."

He turned and climbed the steps. He actually held the door for me, which was kind of strange, but not as bully-ish, I guess. He came in after me and closed the door, leaving him pressed pretty close to my back, close enough that I could feel him breath. He slid around me and took a few steps into the house.

"We can work in the kitchen," he said quietly.

I nodded and followed after him. His house was nice, well kept, and the kitchen was a simple country style with a breakfast nook that Mark was now spreading his history notebook over. And there was a very large cop in the kitchen. He was both tall and wide with thinning blonde hair and the same blue eyes as Mark. I assumed that this was his father. He looked me over as well, but I couldn't help but feel creeped out.

"Dad," Mark said. "This is Ava Smith. Her family's new to town and Mrs. Thompson made us project partners."

"Nice to meet you, Ava," he said. "My name's Robert."

"Nice to meet you two, sir," I said quietly.

"I'm going to go upstairs and get my laptop," Mark said as he jogged up the stairs that lead off the kitchen.

That left me alone with Sheriff James. I crossed the kitchen in front of him and sat down in the nook and began to pull my own things out.

"So you're a Smith, huh? You're the family that just moved into the old Jensen house on the hill?" the sheriff asked.

"Yes, sir. Two weeks ago."

"Well I haven't been called out there, so I guess all is well?"

"Yes, sir. My brother and I are getting settled in. We rather like it here."

By this time I was wondering what the hell was taking Mark so long to pick up a computer and come back down the stairs.

"And your parents?"

"It's just our father, and he never settles in; he likes moving."

"I see. Do you know how long you'll be here?"

This guy was awful nosey, but Mark finally did something helpful and came back down the stairs, keeping me from answering his father's question. I pretended to be distracted by Mark's reentrance, and he saved me even further my turning to his dad and asking,

"What are you doing home so early, Dad?"

"I stopped by to grab my boots. Mary Retthon's grey mare jumped the fence again and she called in looking for help trying to find it. I volunteered; I didn't have anything better to do today."

"Okay. Well, be careful. Mom's going to be really mad if you break a foot again."

"Will do, son. See you at dinner."

He nodded to me and I waved back and he finally left the kitchen. I didn't speak until I heard the cruiser door close and the crunch of the gravel.

"Is your dad always so nosy?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" Mark said, a bit of wonder in his eyes. It was almost if he was excited that I was talking to him.

"He wanted to know how long my family was going to be in town."

"Dad's just curious. He's always like that."

"No offence, but that was a little too creepy to be 'just curious'," I said.

There was a bit of an awkward silence and then I said,

"Okay, where do you want to start?"

"How about with the beginning of the war?"

"Sounds good."


End file.
